Hearing the very first minutely affected syllable breathed through a totally dark theatre, I knew that I was in for something special as an audience member of Speak Easy Stage Company’s final production of the season, Tony award winning, The Drowsy Chaperone.  Our narrator, “Man in chair”, is quick to bring us into the particulars of his world; a place where a treasured classic musical can transform a room right before our eyes, can stop and start at his whim, and can lay a foundation for the hysterical- though sometimes shockingly heart-rending, tale of a day in his life.

“I know him!”  I exclaimed in a whispered hush to my companion- but I didn’t mean that I know perfectly-cast, Will McGarrahan, I meant that I am intimately familiar with the man he portrays.  He lives inside of me, and inside of so many other musical theatre lovers- a person who understands the tranformative ability of a beautiful score, the cleansing properties of a perfectly cast love-song, the glee of a clever tap-dance number, and the emotional satisfaction of a grand finale where everyone lives “happily ever after” and then reprises that last stirring chorus after the curtain call! I cannot begin to recall the number of times I have tried to explain my passion for musical theatre to someone who doesn’t quite “get it’, and to feel the silly frustration when they don’t understand why it is so poignant that Lea Salonga should play BOTH Eponine and Fantine  in different productions of Les Miserables.  I too have tasted the “poopoo platter of tunes” and feel the longing to share its flavor with the world outside. That is what is so perfectly touching about this treasure of a musical.

Speak Easy’s production value is as high as ever with this selection.  Jenna McFarland Lord’s opening set is so impressively detailed that it is hard to imagine it is only one small part of the entire picture.  The ingenious moment where the bed comes out of the man’s stove- with the Chaperone aboard- is a show stopper!  Every detail of the costumes by Seth Bodie (I’m a big fan!) was lush and over-the-top, bathed in period color and set perfectly against the vivid and clever light design of Karen Perlow.  Of the dozens of Speak Easy shows I have seen throughout the years, I found the cohesion of production elements in this particular production to go above and beyond the norm.  Directors David Connolly and Nicholas James Connell should be proud of how dedicated their production team was to truly showcasing the expertise of their actors and directing style.

It is hard to name one person as a standout in this extremely talented cast.  David Christensen’s Robert Martin was charming and doltish, a man you’d want to hug and simultaneously smack upside the head.  Sarah Drake plays “Kitty” with an effervescent enthusiasm that completely enchants the audience from her first off-key squeak. Thomas Derrah as “Aldopho”, the smarmy European, could not be better cast.  What a hysterical combination of swagger, accent, and comic timing!  Add to that the droll and languid musings of “Drowsy Chaperone,” Karen MacDonald and the punches just keep right on rolling.  This musical cast would not be complete without seductive starlet, “Janet Van De Graaff” played by Speakeasy alum, McCaela Donovan.  This is the role that Donovan was born to play.  She was, in every way, a show stopper.  What a beautiful, poised, and passionate woman.  I was blown away by this indisputable triple threat.  This nod to a fantastic ensemble would not be complete though, without re-mentioning Will McGarrahan in the roll of “Man in Chair”.  Despite the colorful, over-the-top stage shenanigans that sprang to life all around him, I couldn’t take my eyes off of McGarrahan throughout the production.  I wanted to see and enjoy his reaction to the musical even more than I wanted to watch it unfold myself.  He was tender and approachable, passionate and clever, a little flirty and suggestive, all without having to leave his chair for more than a few moments.  I wanted to leave my seat and sit with him.  I wanted to proclaim my excitement and allegiance to him- he was, in essence, the star of BOTH shows.  This was perfect casting.

I cannot implore you more, as a reviewer and a lover of all things musical theatre, run, do not walk, to see this production.  This one is once in a lifetime.

As Speak Easy’s 20th anniversary season draws to a close, I cannot help but want to express my gratitude for the many wonderful productions (and the few not-so-wonderful ones) I have seen throughout the years.  I look forward to what is ahead for the company in the next 20 seasons.

Karen MacDonald as The Chaperone and Will McGarrahan as Man in Chair in a scene from the SpeakEasy Stage Company production of THE DROWSY CHAPERONE, . Photo: Stratton McCrady.

It is said that eating chocolate can be psychoactive and make the consumer happy.  There are even studies that say brain stimulants are found in the sweet treat.  Some say it’s an aphrodisiac.  Chocolate comes dark, milk, semi-sweet, and mocha; it comes as ice cream, hot chocolate, chocolate mousse, fudge, chips, drizzle, bars and combined with anything from nuts to nougat.  The culmination of all of these types of chocolate in its many forms is the Death by Chocolate dessert.  If chocolate is indeed a feel good food, then deductive reasoning would have one believe that Death by Chocolate would make one exceedingly glad.

While the dessert, in reality, may leave you feeling more sluggish than glad, Mike Dorval’s Death by Chocolate left this reviewer radiant.  This hybrid of a scripted one man show and stand up routine tells a sort of life long struggle with weight.  Dorval tells his personal parable with humor and humility.  Often the wit is so swift that the laughter is delayed but boisterous, so boisterous at times, that Dorval has to pause the story while the ripples of laughter make their way around the room. From giggles to belly laughs this make-merry monologue tickles the audience in ribbons of guffaw. I can only imagine that the larger the audience the longer the pauses would exponentially grow as the laughter, much like the wave at a Sox game, bounced around the theatre.

The black-box space is scattered with prints of Dorval holding and posing with oversized confections (his arms embrace an ice cream cone, he pals up with an over-sized cookie).   Center stage is a pub height chair and small side table.  The simplicity of the surroundings leave a lot on the shoulders of the Director Pat Shea and on Dorval himself.  Despite the lack of visual stimulants (elaborate sets and lighting design), this piece is entertaining and touching; it is by far and away comedic and light hearted, but that doesn’t prevent the presentation of real and tender vulnerability.

What is beautiful about this work, both in its writing and performance is the angle of attack.  “Fat jokes” often leave me not amused.  Self Deprivation also leaves me unsettled.  Dorval’s brilliance is in taking the topic, telling it candidly but humorously and not at all falling into the cliché tricks of “overweight humor”.  Many of the anecdotes, though derived from the playwright’s own experiences as someone who is overweight, are universal to a variety of human struggles.

This fall-down-laughing work of stand-up comedy is more than I could have possibly imagined it to be. From seeing a poster for the show in the Boston Center for the Arts to writing this review, my expectations were superlatively surpassed.  I recommend anybody looking for a feel-good night out to see this piece.  And even if it’s not for the cathartic laughter, Dorval shows that he bares no ill-will to the sinful deliciousness that is chocolate by having your ticket to his show be a coupon for a free chocolaty dessert at a nearby restaurant.

If someone told me that a play that included a man doing a techno dance in a full body panda suit would be my favorite show of 2009, I would never have believed them, and yet sitting here looking over the program for Boston Playwrights Theatre’s The Salt Girl, I cannot help but relive the flood of emotions I felt when I saw this show on Saturday night.  Was it the handfuls of Fruity Pebbles being thrown into the audience?  Perhaps the hunks of celery that Actor and Playwright John Kuntz hacked apart with a meat cleaver and threw at audience members crunching all around me in the otherwise silent theatre?  It could have been the breathtaking set, a wall of televisions glowing ominously and flickering with film clips and pictures, as if we were seeing directly into the mind of the character, or it could have been delightful sound-scape which seamlessly led the audience through time periods and state of mind (Adam Stone should be commended).  I’m not sure I could pinpoint one detail of this thrilling play that could define its perfection, but as my companion and I agreed, we would be forever changed for having seen it.

Staring out into the open theatre space (a miraculous transformation from Little Black Dress) I cannot help but see the set of one of my favorite one-man shows of all time, I Am My Own Wife.  The wall of televisions and lamps is artfully arranged with various items that define the character’s journey- salt canisters, cereal boxes, toy cars, a geranium, a lone cup of pudding, a fish bowl, a garbage can- there are so many small details that they blend together, and the audience delights in seeing them appear again throughout the show as each item takes on their symbolic significance in the character’s journey.  Lighting by Jeff Adelberg highlights these moments subtly and perfectly.

Throughout The Salt Girl, Kuntz, as sullen, hollow-eyed, Quint, takes us on a dark journey through the life of his character.  Part monologue, part narrative, we see him through a variety of ages and we watch him embody several different characters.  Young Quint is rebellious and angry, working through the death of his sister and mother through reckless behavior and packages of self-narrated audiotapes.  Older Quint is solitary and particular as he faces the impossible task of ending life support for a father he has been estranged from for 18 years.  In between those two different manifestations of “Quint” is a lifetime of pain and discovery, each moment compellingly and sensitively illustrated for the audience.  Kuntz is harrowing- at times so funny that it’s hard to catch your breath (as in the genius drive-thru window scene) and in the next moment, so darkly heartbreaking that the tears in your eyes take you by surprise.  Despite the roller coaster of emotions, the show is never too dark or too heavy, and every serious moment is earned by his strong stage presence.  He deserves an award for the stamina required of him just to work through the character of Quint on stage, let alone the fact that he embodied this character throughout the writing and rehearsal process of this piece.  I was a little harsh on Kuntz in my review of The Superheroine Monologues, but not here.  The Salt Girl is masterful.

A word about nudity.  I hate it.  I almost always end up disliking shows where actors take their clothes off on stage.  I cannot rationalize the need to pull the audience out of the flow of the story by allowing an actor to get naked.  I just cannot be convinced that what might be a very poignant moment just cannot happen while the audience members are screaming “penis!”, “boobies!” in their heads.  It just can’t happen.  When I read the sign in the lobby of the theatre warning us that this show contained nudity, I was extremely skeptical.  When Kuntz took off his clothes near the end of the second act though, I was breathless- I didn’t even notice what was happening.  It marked the only successful interaction I have ever had with a nude actor where I didn’t feel uncomfortable and slightly grossed out.  He was confident and calm- not a single muscle in his body held nervous tension, even in a somewhat awkward masturbation scene.  Again the lighting was superb here, giving us neither too much or too little exposure.  When the show was over we couldn’t help but comment on the nude scene- and not in the usual way with giggles and jabs.  It was impeccably done.

If you see anything at all in what remains of 2009, see this show.  Run, do not walk to get tickets before it is too late.  It was perfect. The show runs through Sunday, November 22^nd at normal show-time intervals (their website has all the exacts).

Kuntz as Quint